


Soft, close your eyes

by Wapwani



Series: Dragon Queen prompt responses [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), dragon queen - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-23 01:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6100210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wapwani/pseuds/Wapwani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set post-Underworld. Sacrifices and decisions have been made, and some things have changed; but some things go back to the way they were.</p><p>This is the first of a series of mini-fics written in response to prompts for Dragon Queen. The prompt for this one was: "Accidentally falling asleep together". Previously posted on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soft, close your eyes

It was strange how normal this had become. Maleficent in the Mills’ house, sitting across the dinner table from Henry, in the kitchen pouring the wine while Regina cooked, her long lithe form reclining in a chair in the sun while Regina weeded or picked apples. It had started when they had returned from the Underworld.

The descent into some bizarre interpretation of hell had taken a toll on all of them. Emma’s power hadn’t worked as it should have - her light magic tainted by the pull of the dark and the weight of regret, everything she had done had been twisted to its worst possible outcome. In the end, she had almost failed, had almost gone too far and gambled too much. They would have had to leave her there, her soul trapped by the rules of a realm they had not yet even begun to understand. But Regina would not allow that to happen. No one had asked her to intervene - not even Emma had looked pleadingly to her. But Regina had seen it anyway - seen the fear in Henry’s face, the despair in Snow and David’s, and the abject terror in Emma’s - and she had stepped forward to sacrifice herself. Her own magic was more light than dark now, but what she had lost in power she made up for in sheer tenacity. She would wrestle Emma Swan from Hades’ trap if it was the last thing she did. It would be the last thing she did actually. She thought it fitting in some strange way that her final act in life would be the one to complete her path to redemption - to give her own life to save the child of her once-sworn enemy; to keep together the family she had once given all her energies to tearing apart.

She stepped into the fire and oh, how it burned. But she would endure it until she had completed her task - to sever the ties that held Emma Swan bound in this realm. She screamed, she knew she screamed. She could see Henry’s face caught in a mask of horror, David’s strong arms holding her son back, tears streaming down his own face. And Snow, her arms tight around her daughter, her eyes fixed on Regina’s, her mouth open but silent. She had finally rendered Snow White speechless. A small victory then, snatched from this final defeat.

And then, just as Regina had begun to fear that she would not be able to stay alive long enough to destroy whatever was holding Emma here, the dragons had come. Mal and Lily, swooping in from thin air, wings outstretched as though they’d been battling strong winds, screaming defiance at Hades’ hordes. Lily had scattered the ogres and Mal had come to Regina’s aid. Dragonfire lanced through Hades’ blue flames - the only thing powerful enough to be able to do so. Free from the grip of fire, Regina had struck at Emma’s bindings; Mal’s presence somehow lent strength to her magic, helped her recall some of the dark power she needed for this to work.

However she did it, the magic had worked, and Emma had been freed. Bruised and battered, still reeling from the shock of Regina’s near-sacrifice, the motely crew had crept back to Storybrooke, using a portal the dragons had made. Henry had watched his mother with Mal and Lily. She had been nervous, unable to meet Lily’s eyes, until Mal had said, “Enough, Regina. We only managed to reach you because of Lily. Be glad of your bond. I am.” Regina had stared in wonderment at Lily, and cupped her cheek gently. The look on her face was one Henry had only ever seen directed at him, and sometimes at Emma; a sort of shining fondness that made Regina’s eyes light up and her mouth curl softly, and it was such a perfect moment that Henry found he could ignore the blood dripping down his hands from the cuts on his arm. He could wait to ask his mother to heal him.

She had healed him, of course. And the town had healed. And the little rag-tag group of the Charming/Swan/Mills clan and all their allies had healed. It was what they did, wasn’t it? Face unsurmountable odds and unbeatable foes, and surmount and beat them, and then come home and regroup until the next threat came along. But this time the healing left odd little cracks.

Robin had left, taking Roland and half his Merry Men and disappearing into the wilds of Maine. Henry thought he heard Robin saying something about a sweat lodge and forest rangers. Robin’s powers had been almost useless in the Underworld, and he told Regina that while he may be her soulmate, he wasn’t cut out to be the companion of an ex-Evil queen who now fought the dark on a regular basis. Regina needed someone with more than a quiver of arrows and an 80% kill-rate by her side.

Emma had saved Hook, even though he didn’t particularly want to be saved. He had come back to Storybooke with them, only to leave almost immediately on the Jolly Roger. Where he was going he did not say; he did say he may return some day, when he had forgiven her. Emma was pining now, spending all her free time by the waterside, awaiting Hook’s return. Regina had fumed at her for a several months and then finally given her up for a lost cause. She told Emma she would always have a place in her home, that her family would always be there for her, but that Regina wasn’t going to sit around and watch her mope over a man who was so unworthy of her affections. And while Emma may have stared morosely after her friend, she did not follow her.

They still fought side-by-side, facing all the evils and horrors that still plagued their town together. But when it was all over, Emma would return to the waterside, and Regina would make her way back to the manor alone.

But one day Mal was there, waiting for her on the step. And Regina had opened the door and let the dragon in. And it was strange how normal it became, how easily Mal fit into their little family. Or perhaps it wasn’t that strange, Henry would sometimes think to himself, as he listened to his mother talk hesitantly to Lily. Their conversation seemed mundane - Regina asking Lily about flying lessons and her grasp of magic and making sure her plate was piled with her favorite foods - but Henry recognised the cadence of their conversation. He’d had lots of practice with it after all - Regina had been talking to him this way for as long as he could remember.

And Mal fit right in too. Finding places she could curl up where she was not underfoot but close enough so that Regina knew she was not alone. Soon it was Mal who sat across from Regina at dinner, Lily to her left and Henry to her right. Regina still cooked the same foods, although there were new, slightly exotic, variations on the menu now. The first time she had made lasagne on a night Mal ate with them, Henry had nearly choked on the amount of chili flakes his mother had used. But Mal ate it with relish, and Henry had to wonder at how easily his mother had adjusted her recipe to suit Mal’s taste - as though she had been making the lasagne this way for years, as though she had spent some time perfecting her understanding of Mal’s preferences and was only now allowed to show how much she remembered. (Henry never did learn to eat that much chili, and Regina returned her recipe to normal after the third time he had nearly coughed up half his dinner, his ears bright red and his face covered in sweat. Instead, she had started placing a bottle of red chili flakes by Mal’s plate, and the dragon had taken to sprinkling it liberally over everything she ate. Except desserts, although there were nights she’d eye her bowl of chocolate mousse thoughtfully, as though she were wondering what it would taste like with an added layer of heat).

Mal and Lily had become so much of a fixture in Regina and Henry’s lives that they soon started getting invitations to all sorts of things - brunch at the diner, Christmas lunch at the Charming’s, David had taken Lily hunting, and Snow had tried to get Mal interested in crocheting. That last activity hadn’t gone very well, but David and Lily had come back from their weekend in the woods filthy and with empty hands, but they laughed easily together now, and Snow’s eyes were warm when she watched Henry and Lily argue over comic books instead of eating the meal she had spent half the afternoon preparing. Emma was there too, and though her glances at Mal and Regina were somewhat wistful, her laughter and contentment seemed genuine. Hook still had not returned, but Emma remained hopeful, and Regina had stopped telling her to snap out of it.

So perhaps it wasn’t that unusual then that Mal and Regina were here now, sitting on the couch in Regina’s living room, preparing to watch a dvd of a children’s play. Regina had been too busy to make it to Neal’s debut - as a flower and then as a tree - in the Elementary school’s christmas pageant. Regina had been swamped with paperwork, and as much as she loved the youngest Charming, she could not  get to the school on time. In fact, she didn’t get home until 9:00pm as it was.

Mal was waiting for her. She had missed the pageant too (and yes, she’d been invited, as had Lily. Lily had been able to make it to the hall, sitting somewhat squashed between David and Henry). Lily had told her mother the performances had been ‘riveting’ and that Neal had been ‘the best flower ever’. Maleficent was sure Regina would be sorry to have missed it. So when Snow offered her copy of the dvd, Mal had accepted graciously, and then made her way over to the mansion to surprise Regina with it.

Mal had missed the show because she’d been busy battling a nest of ogres, a leftover from the time Hades had tried to take over Storybrooke. She hadn’t thought to bother Regina with it - paperwork seemed like far deadlier an opponent than ogres, and Mal wanted Regina at peak power so she could keep their homes safe. She could handle an infestation of ogres easily enough. It had been a tiring evening though, and she caught herself yawning just as Regina was parking her Mercedes.

Mal welcomed Regina home, made sure she ate something more substantial than a salad, and then led her to the living room where Henry had set everything up. (Mal was still learning about dvds and tvs and why the shiny little disc had to go in the ‘right’ way. So she had asked Henry for his expert assistance, and he had been happy to help out once she explained what was on the dvd and why she wanted Regina to see it).

They got comfortable on the couch, and Mal poured them another glass of wine, and she hit ‘play’ on the remote. In retrospect, getting comfortable and drinking more wine  was probably not the best idea.

The pageant was…sweet, Mal supposed was the most accurate descriptor. Little humans dressed in outlandish costumes singing syrupy-sweet songs badly off-key. She could hear Regina ‘aww’ besides her and had to remind herself not to roll her eyes. Regina had seen most of these children grow from babyhood, so it was understandable she would get a little attached to them. But by the time Neal came on the screen, Regina was yawning broadly, her eyes drooping shut as she struggled to follow along with the program.

“Why is he a flower again?”

Mal shrugged. “It was an easy costume to make?”

Regina snorted with laughter and curled her feet up under her. The motion set her off balance a little, and she ended up leaning against Mal’s shoulder.

“He is a cute flower,” Regina offered in a sleepy voice.

“He is the best flower there,” Mal agreed loyally. She was glad Regina hadn’t commented on Neal’s singing voice, because she wasn’t sure how good a liar she could be.

Regina leaned heavily against Mal, yawning so broadly Mal heard the bones in her jaw click. She winced in sympathy.

“I like this song.” Regina’s voice was sleepy, heavy and slow.

“Hmm,” Mal said, hoping the noncommittal noise would be taken as agreement.

There was a particularly loud screech from the screen and Mal glanced down to see how Regina was taking this, only to find that she was fast asleep. Her eyes were closed and she leaned against Mal, and she was sleeping. Mal smiled. She was glad; Regina had looked tired and she obviously needed the rest.

She shifted a little, so she could move Regina more comfortably against her. She called a blanket to her, her magic finding the warm throw that usually was left folded at the bottom of Regina’s bed and bringing it to her in the living room. She flicked the throw open and draped it carefully around Regina’s sleeping form. She shifted again, repositioning the smaller woman so that she was leaning more fully against Mal, and Mal could use both her arms to offer additional support. She would only stay like this a few minutes longer, Mal decided. Long enough for Regina to slip into a deep sleep, and then Mal could move her without worrying about waking her.

Again, in retrospect, that was not a good idea. Regina was a soft warm weight in Mal’s arms, and her breathing was regular and even, and so very soothing to listen to. Mal did not want to give this up just yet. But it was so comfortable here on the couch, the scent of Regina in her nose, the feel of her skin under her hands, the press of her against her body, and the droning tones of singing children in her ears. Of course Mal fell asleep too.

That was where Henry found them, hours later. He had been driven downstairs by hunger pangs, and he had seen the flicker from the tv and popped his head into the living room to chat with his mother. He’d seen them there, lit by the static-y tv screen, the dvd long since played out. His mother was wrapped closely in Mal’s arms. Mal was half-sitting, leaning against one arm of the couch, her long legs stretched out. Regina lay against Mal’s body, her cheek turned towards Mal’s chest. He could see one of her hands, peeking out from under the blanket; she had curled it possessively around Mal’s bicep. The dragon’s pale hair had flared out against the cushions, and his mother’s dark tresses contrasted prettily against it.

Henry stepped quietly into the room. He turned off the tv and ejected the dvd from the player, returning the disc to its casing. He wouldn’t tell his grandmother that his mother had fallen asleep in the middle of her youngest child’s debut performance. He reached over and kissed Regina’s cheek, gently so as not to wake her.

“Good night, Mom,” he whispered.

Regina did not stir, but Mal did. Regina made a little sound of disquiet, her grasp on Mal’s arm tightened, and she burrowed closer into the dragon’s body. Mal stopped moving, grunted a little, and tightened her arms around Regina.

Henry smiled and resisted the urge to pat Mal’s hand. He turned and tip-toed out of the room, leaving Regina sleeping safely in the arms of her oldest friend and newest companion.

 

 


End file.
